


Penumbra (Summer mini-episode)

by Saki101



Series: Penumbra [3]
Category: Dark Shadows (1966), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Cold Weather, Hot Weather, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saki101/pseuds/Saki101
Summary: London is having a heat wave.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: Penumbra [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/708603
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49





	Penumbra (Summer mini-episode)

~~~~~~ooo0ooo~~~~~~

Sleep slid away. I reached out towards the other, often empty, side of the bed. My fingers found the cool curves of my bedfellow and I smiled. My hand explored, gliding upwards. I pressed my palm against the chill plane of his back. Relief seeped up my arm. I edged closer, the remnants of dreams still clinging to me. I had been in the desert, searching for shade from the mid-day sun. I lay my cheek against the snowy mound of Sherlock’s shoulder and sighed.

“Not too cold,” he murmured drowsily. “No need to warm me…” He turned over, scowled and cupped my face in his hands. “You’re hot.”

I turned my head into his soothing touch. “London seems confused as to which part of the globe it occupies.” Small wonder I had dreamt of the desert.

“The weather’s been uncomfortable for you.” He rolled on top of me. My temperature began to drop. “You should have said.”

“The ice pack on my head last night should have been a clue,” I replied as my hand wandered down his side.

“I thought you had a headache,” he mused and closed his cool lips over mine.

It was a drink of spring water. I parted my lips. His tongue touched mine. Fresh spring water, bubbling up from the earth, quenching all thirst.

He hummed and it tickled my throat.

I chuckled. 

He hummed more insistently.

The curtains by the balcony doors flapped. A damp breeze brushed past the soles of my feet.

I opened an eye. The sky above the courtyard roiled with clouds, branches of climbing rose waved in the rising wind. 

Sherlock pressed his hips down, cold and hard against my thigh. 

The heat of the night receded. I sighed as I embraced him; everywhere I touched was cool. My hips lifted to meet his.

“I thought you liked being warm,” he whispered above my flushed skin. His lips glided, cool and smooth, to my throat. 

“Within reason. This has been way beyond reasonable.” I raised my legs up around his thighs. Relief flooded through me as he settled between them. So cool. 

“You are too hot,” he murmured and slipped further down my body, smooth tongue slipping past nipple and navel and closing about my cock. His mouth was no longer as cold as it had been.

Ice crystals fell on me. The breeze caressed my face. 

“The weather can’t have changed that much,” I mumbled and opened my mouth wide to catch the snowflakes.

He laughed around my cock and my temperature took a turn in the wrong direction.

“It’s not today out there, is it?” I asked when I found my voice again.

He pulled away and slid lower. “Late February, a few centuries ago,” he said before his voice was muffled by my balls.

My legs slipped from around his shoulders.

Sherlock sat up.

I looked at him, panting.

He smiled one of his dangerous smiles. In a blur of motion, he was off the bed and across the room, me and a pillow or two clasped in his arms as he stepped out onto the balcony.

He set me down by the railing. I gripped the cold metal. Below us, the foliage in the courtyard lay half-hidden with snow. Above us, the clouds glowered as the moon’s shadow advanced across the sun.

Sherlock thrust a pillow between me and the railing, and urged me to bend lower. The wind ruffled my hair. The snow was wet and cool against my cheek.

“Better?” he asked as he leaned over me and nipped at my neck.

Heat spiked inside me, but the wind blew it away. And then, there was the cool grasp of his hand at my hip and the chill press of his cock against the warmest part of me. I shifted my feet and he slid coolly in. I clenched against his cold firmness and a chill ran up my spine. It wouldn’t last. My heat would warm him. I had done it many times.

I straightened and leaned back against his chest. The pillow fell at my feet. The hand at my hip gripped more firmly; his other stroked from my throat to my groin.

“You’re changing, John,” Sherlock whispered as his hand closed around me.

I arched my neck to the side, so he could reach it easily.

He licked at it as his hand slid along my cock, cool and tight and fast. The snow swirled about us, beside us thorny branches thrashed against the bricks. His hand tightened. 

Heat streamed out of me and cold streamed into me. Melted snow trickled down my chest. 

I sagged against him.

At my neck, Sherlock bit deep.

In the sky, the edges of the sun glowed around the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> Photo source: [Wikipedia Commons](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Eclipse_Anular_de_Sol_\(1810008150\).jpg)


End file.
